Page:Martha Spreull by Zachary Fleming.pdf/13



We’ve had things through-hands at hame about wha wis to write this preface for the New Edition. The publishers say that the extraordinary sale o’ the first issue deserves some recognition, and Maister Fleming, my husband and editor, wha is deeply versed in the laws o’ etiquette, says this duty devolves on me. Weel, what am I to say? I maunna be ower uplifted, for pride is a dangerous thing. I have seen folk gae clean aff at the head wi’ success, become poetical, and talk rank nonsense. Even the greatest authors have their limitations, and, as I ken my ain boonds, I maun speak soberly, as becomes a sensible wumman that has a reputation to sustain.

Efter the verdict o’ the critics, I begin to think there is something in the fact which wis noted at the time by Mysie Deans, the mantymaker, Beeny Fortune, the spae-wife, and ithers, namely, that my wisdom teeth cam’ when I wis in my twelfth year. That remarkable circumstance made an unco impression on